“Just a moment.” Hayden leaned forward. “Why did the murderer ring the library bell to summon Evelyn?”
“How do I know?” Burnham’s excitement was mounting the more he talked. “Probably he did it in a moment of—of mental aberration.”
Hayden chuckled. “Well, putting that point aside for a moment,” he said, “there is the question of getting the body through the streets and up your steps unseen in broad daylight by any passers-by.”
“Confound it!” Burnham banged the table with his clenched fist until the glasses rattled. “Why do you keep harping on daylight? The coroner claims that the man died between two and three Tuesday morning; the murderer had ample time before daylight to take the body to my house——”
“But Evelyn did not find the body until Tuesday afternoon,” interrupted Palmer heatedly.
“She did not find the body in the library until Tuesday afternoon,” retorted Burnham. “But I am willing to bet any amount that had Evelyn looked through the entire house she would have found it concealed somewhere on the premises.”
In the silence that ensued Burnham glanced triumphantly at his companions, but their expression disappointed him; his theory had not created the sensation he had expected.
“Of course the body was in the house,” answered Hayden. “It had to be there that length of time, for the man was dead hours before Evelyn found him. Why the body was moved into the library, why the murderer returned to the scene of his crime, and why he rang the library bell are problems yet to be solved.”
“There is a point you are all overlooking,” broke in Palmer. “Where did the murderer get the keys to your house? There is no evidence to show he broke into the house, therefore he must have used a key.”
Burnham did not reply at once. “There are dishonest locksmiths, I suppose, as well as crooks in other trades,” he said finally. “The lock on the front door is old fashioned, and the same key opens the outer vestibule door also.”